


Four Seasons

by super_rainbow2021



Series: NaNoWriMo 2019 [23]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dean vs Sam, Fluff, Gen, Junior has to break the tie, Playful arguments, Summer or Winter, they both think they're right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 08:29:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20468066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/super_rainbow2021/pseuds/super_rainbow2021
Summary: Sam loves winter. Dean loves summer. Junior has to break the tie.





	Four Seasons

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt: "Which is better, winter or summer?"
> 
> Time frame for this could be Season 4 or 5, but Junior is at least 19 and Dean comes back from Hell a couple days before her 18th birthday.

.º.º.º.º.

“Summer is the worst,” Sam groans from his place at the table. They’re eating out at a diner on their way to Tennessee from Nebraska, and they’re currently on the border of Nebraska and Missouri. Good thing, too, because Junior’s still far too uncomfortable to be able to even be in the same state as her father. Sam shoves a few fries in his mouth before continuing, “You can only take off so many layers of clothes before you get to your skin, and then what? You sit around naked? No thank you, check please, _adiós._ Winter is great because even if you’re cold, you can layer under as many blankets as you want, and there’s comfy sweaters,” he pauses to take a sip of his water and Dean exchanges an amused glance with Junior, “and hot cocoa, and candy canes-”

“Yeah, you do have an oral fixation.”

Junior spits out the gulp of water she took and sputters across the table. She glares at Dean with a crimson face and the man barely holds back a guffaw. Sam sighs heavily and rolls his eyes at the other’s antics, taking a napkin from the thankfully dry pile and sops up the water. _“Anyway,_ I _hate_ summer. Winter all the way.”

“Well,” Dean says as he sets his soda down, looking up at Sam with a barely concealed grin, “I think that summer is absolutely great. Fun in the sun, ya know? Hot summer days working on Baby and gettin’ tan and drinking beer under the sun …” Dean gives Sam a sideways look and the younger gives a reluctant ( and soft ) smile. “And I _hate_ winter. Winter is _bleak_ and _cold_ and _frigid_ and _terrible._ I’m _never_ warm. There’re icicles hanging from my _nose_ in the winter. Although cuddling for warmth is fun, it’s such a small pleasure in a literal pocket of Hell.” Sam huffs and turns his nose up and looks down his bride at Dean, and Dean leans back and quirks a blond eyebrow. Junior's mouth quirks at the casual mention of Dean's time in Hell, that enough time has passed for him to come to terms with it and joke about it.

They glare playfully at each other for a moment before turning in unison to the third member of their little family. Junior sips her water through her straw and blinks up at her dads innocently with her emerald eyes ( embarrassing jokes aside ). She sets her drink down gently and straightens her leather jacket, then leans back with her arms crossed and levels them both with a _look._ “Well,” she says haltingly, and the two men sway forward just a bit to hear her thoughts, to break the tie, to declare one of them right and the other wrong.  “Summer can be nice at times, when the sun’s not too hot and there’s a breeze. I burn easy, so I’m not too fond of it. And the sun is way too bright all the time.”  Dean smiles and deflates as she talks, and Sam acts in reverse in turn.  “Winter is too cold and the memories of being stuck in the house don’t make a good argument for me either.”  Vice versa.  “No, I really like the fall. Pumpkin patches and corn mazes, apple cider and roasted pumpkin seeds, Halloween candy, dark and spooky nights-” Sam snorts at her and Dean gives her a smile,  “-the days are warm but not sweltering, the nights cool but not chilly. Perfect.” She doesn’t realize she has a soft look on longing on her face or that her tone turns wistful, but her dads do. They each raise a hand to her and coax her arms to uncross so they can lace her fingers with theirs. Junior smiles up at them both, a gleam in her eye that wasn’t there before. They let her go to return to their lunch, and Junior gently touches the moon and pumpkin tattoos on the back of her neck.

.º.º.º.º.


End file.
